The Shadow's Smile
by AnvilBlue
Summary: A short story revolving around the murder of one beasts family. :::Note: more recent version is chp1 and original is chp2. New version may be forthcoming:::
1. The Shadows Smile v2

(Disclaimer: I do not own Redwall nor any places or characters found in the Redwall series, they are copyright Brian Jacques. Author's Note: This is the second version of this story, the original can be found in chapter two.)  
  
~The Shadow's Smile~  
  
A cold wind blew through the trees, their branches rattled under the winter storm's wrath. Snowflakes blew downward from the heavens, burying the earth beneath a layer of ice. The blizzard had come, its fury was upon the lands, sending all creatures fleeing for their homes, leaving the northlands a barren desert of white, only a single beast daring to brace the sands of ice. The winds tore at the creature, freezing him to the bone, sending him to all fours at times, his mind wavering between the conscious and unconscious realms. Still he persevered, ignoring the painful stinging of his frostbitten limbs as he plunged through the snows, following a trail only he knew, every movement of his body sending shockwaves of pain through him. Then, finally, it was too much for the creature, his step faltered and he tumbled forward into the white expanse, his mind sinking into the world of dreams and nightmares.  
  
The creature found himself there once again, always the same dream, the same sequence of nightmarish remembrances as the days before, his mind taunting him with the past. Spectral images flooding his thoughts, blurred images of happy times and places lifting him, only for them to fade away into the darkness, leaving him there alone in the shadows. The otter found himself before the cave that he had called home for so much of his life, the normal feelings of comfort and safety replaced by the fear of what was to come. Crimson hued snowflakes falling softly on his shoulders, his home had been tainted. It was the early winter, the snows had just begun to fall and the creatures of the north had just begun to close their homes up for the winter season.  
  
He had been returning from a hunt, the last one there would be for quite a while, his pack laden with fruits, fish and any other food he found in the woods. The otter stood there, at the threshold of his home, bent under the weight of his pack, staring down in the darkness, feelings of fear growing as he stepped into the rocks. He walked along slowly, his eyes watching the movements of every shadow, his ears alert for any sound, but finding none. The cave was eerily silent. The torches that lit the way with their flickering glow seemed to be darker then usual, the winding corridors colder, menacing. Then the otter heard it, soft sounds cutting through the frigid air, a baby's cry and a mother's scream.  
  
Heart pounding in his chest the otter ran along through the darkened network of caves, chasing the sounds as the fears pursued him from behind. The child's cries a constant reminder of what was to come, the screams of its mother tearing at him as he ran, their constant wails echoing through the corridors. He let his catch fall to the ground, drawing a blade from his belt as he ran, his legs pumping furiously. The cave before him seemed to distort and bend in impossible ways. The normally gray stone now crimson hued. His breath came in ragged gasps as he propelled himself down the darkened corridors of his memory. Suddenly he stopped short, just past the entrance to what had been his home, the sum of all his fears now realized.  
  
Pain and anger coloring his vision, he stared downward at the horrid image. The screams and cries had stopped with the realization, leaving the caves silent and eerie as he stared down at it, the fallen cradle. The white sheets stained red, wrapped around what had been all of his joy. He fell to his knees, unable to comprehend, cold, lifeless eyes staring back at him. His wife's bright green eyes dulled in death, her expression one of terror and fear, lying on their bed in a pool of still warm blood flowing from the gaping wound in her chest.  
  
Closing his eyes, unable to bear the sights of the past, he heard it. The soft sound of some creatures' breath, the killer was behind him. Whirling around to face it, he found a blur and then he felt a sharp stabbing pain in his shoulder. He found himself knocked headfirst into the wall; his blade knocked away, a bloodied hook piercing his shoulder. The killer twisted the hook cruelly, eliciting a cry of pain from the otter, turning his vision red. Suddenly the killer let him drop to the floor, the otter glanced up to find that the killer was a shadow, its smile standing out from the darkness, cold blue eyes piercing the otter's own.  
  
"Yer a murderin', scum." The shadow whispered, its cruel grin growing wider at the words, its bright blue eyes cutting through the darkness. The otter found himself staring at the shadow. As it disappeared he swore that he would kill the murderer if it were the last thing he did. With that the world faded into the blackness.  
  
"Tarn..." Out of the shadows he heard a soft melodious voice calling his name, the darkness began to part, the light at the end of the tunnel. A light shining through the haze of his mind, he found himself wandering the black fog, something pushing him on to find the voice. Then he found himself at a ledge, standing beside a figure he could not see, staring down into a dark chasm.  
  
"Kaia..." He whispered, staring down into the pit, wanting more then anything to look up and find the creature he knew was beside him. He could feel her there. He knew that she was there with him once again.  
  
"It tis not to be Tarn." Another voice echoed in the chasm and suddenly Tarn found himself wrapped in fog, trapped within its grasp and then, with a loud crack the cliff gave way and he found himself falling into the dark abyss, staring up into her cold eyes.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Slowly the dream faded away into nothingness, leaving Tarn alone in the dark, drifting slowly from the realm of dreams into conscious world, watching as blurred figures danced at the corners of his vision. He tried to cling to the dream, but he was torn from sleep and plunged back into reality. The pain was his first sign, a burning all over his body, he found himself shaking heavily, his breath coming in ragged gasps.  
  
"Mar!" A feminine voice echoed in Tarn's half-conscious mind. He felt a pair of paws on his shoulders, trying to hold him still.  
  
"What is it, Mira?" Another voice asked. Tarn could hear them more clearly now as the numbness faded, the pain flooding back in, but still the otter couldn't make anything out of blurs that passed through his vision.  
  
"That otter jus' woke up!" The first voice, a creature named Mira he assumed. Tarn blinked tiredly as he tried to rise, but he found no strength to do so, he was struggling just to breath.  
  
"Ain't in too good of shape is he?" The other voice asked from somewhere to the otter's right.  
  
"Nope, but I don't think he's goin' to have ta lose anythin'." She replied. "Lucky ye found 'im out there when ye did, otherwise frostbite would have set in..." She trailed off into silence, falling away from Tarn's view, being replaced by a much larger blur that held something in its paws that Tarn couldn't quite make out, some sort of cup.  
  
"Here mate, drink this up, it'll help ye get better..." Mar said, speaking as if the otter were a simple child, but there was nothing Tarn could do about it. He nodded his consent weakly for whatever his savoir had in mind. He then found himself being force fed some sort of foul-tasting brew. The otter tried to protest, but the potion went to work right away and he found the world growing dark, reality growing distant once again.  
  
Once more he found himself in the caves of his home, chasing the shadows of the past. The rocky tunnels curved this way and that in seemingly random patterns as he chased the fleeting image of the killer, the horrid shadow creature as voices echoed through the maze-like construct of his mind. The child's cries echoed monotonously, a constant reminder of the past horrors. He could hear the cries of a mother as she watched her life stripped away, tossed into the hungry shadows.  
  
"Murderer...." That single word echoed through his mind, taunting him as the fleeting shadows did, as fast as he went he could never catch up. It was always one step ahead. He found the questions popping up in his mind, all of the 'what ifs' torturing him, tearing the otter down from the inside, but he fought on.  
  
"Murderer...." The echo came again, louder this time, from behind. Tarn glanced back for a moment to find nothingness, an absolute darkness that threatened to swallow him up. He kept running, no longer certain as to if he was the predator or the prey in his mind.  
  
"Murderer...." Suddenly a rock leapt up from the cave floor, snagging his foot paw and bringing the otter to the ground. The wind knocked out of him, he lay there for a moment, trying to collect himself before he struggled up to find, standing there in front of him, a beautiful otter.  
  
"Kaia..." He whispered, reaching out with a paw, trying to touch her, but she backed away from his touch, shaking her head slowly at him.  
  
"Murderer..." She whispered, disappearing into the darkness.  
  
"Wait!" Tarn cried out as reality came back once again and the otter found himself in the conscious realm once more. He bolted straight up in bed, panting heavily, his heart pounding within his chest.  
  
"Ah, so yer up, eh?" A friendly voice asked. Glancing over, Tarn found an otter like himself sitting down in a chair, a book in his paws.  
  
"Yeah, I s'pose that I am." Tarn answered as his heart slowed to a normal pace.  
  
"I take it that ye didn't sleep well?" The otter, the one called Mar, asked with a strange sort of smile, setting his book down on a wooden end table.  
  
"No, s'pose I didn't." Tarn replied simply.  
  
"So what were ye doin' out in a storm like that?" Mar asked stabbing a thumb in the direction of a small window on the other side of the room where they could see the snow-covered landscape glistening in the new mornings' sun.  
  
"I was hunting..." Tarn answered, narrowing his eyes a little, hatred plainly showing in his eyes.  
  
"In a storm like that?" Mar asked, a surprised look gracing his features.  
  
"Where are my things?" Tarn changed the subject quickly to avoid giving the otter any further information. Mar pointed over to a large oak desk upon which Tarn's heavy cloak had been placed, his weapons on top of it.  
  
"I hope ye ain't plannin' on goin' back out."  
  
"What does it matter to you?" Tarn muttered in response, struggling to rise from the bed.  
  
"There ain't no way you'd make it out there like that!" The otter cried, rising from his chair.  
  
"I have to, an' ye ain't goin' ta stop me." Tarn growled, finally rising to his foot paws, pain shooting up through his legs as he did so.  
  
"Very well, but at least give me the truth." The healer demanded as he steadied Tarn with a strong paw.  
  
"I'm hunting a murderer an' 'is tracks out there are washing 'way as we speak." Tarn replied, pushing away the otter's arm, stumbling towards the table.  
  
"Y'know I could try an help you?"  
  
"I don't need your help nor do I want it. The scum is mine." Leaning on the table heavily Tarn examined his blade, testing its keen edge.  
  
"Well, since I suppose I ain't goin' ta be getting' through to you I may as well help, eh?" Mar moved towards a large armoire that stood next to the bed, removing a small metal flask before moving to Tarn's side. "Here, take this." Tarn simply nodded in response, taking the flask in his paw, examining it.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"It's the only reason you're still alive now."  
  
"Is that so?" Tarn muttered before downing the potion in a single gulp, shuddering at the familiar taste, as he stepped towards the door.  
  
"This way." Mar said, beckoning for Tarn to follow. They wound through a complex series of tunnels and passages, much like Tarn's home, but it was of a different shade. "Exit's jus' through the great cavern." As Mar spoke the cave opened up into a great cavern, lit up brightly by a giant fire at the center, around it hundreds of different kinds of beasts sat around the flames enjoying themselves. The caverns cheery atmosphere was wasted on Tarn though. He simply waited there for Mar to lead the way, glancing around the huge cave, but not truly seeing any of it.  
  
"Where is it?" Tarn asked, his voice emotionless, his eyes appearing dull and gray as he glanced around the cavern.  
  
"It's straight for . . . " Mar began, but he was quickly silenced by a paw.  
  
"Wait, who's that?" Tarn demanded, pointing towards a tall, dark furred otter with bright blue eyes that stood at the outskirts of the crowds, watching everything with a cold, indifferent glare.  
  
"Which?" Mar asked, a little confused.  
  
"That otter o'er there, standin' by the wall." Tarn replied, moving a few paces towards the strangely familiar otter.  
  
"Him? I think that's one of the beasts we rescued from the storm. Came in around the same time as you I think . . ." Mar answered, a little surprised at the question. "Do you know him?"  
  
"Yes, I do believe so." Tarn growled, drawing his knife from his cloak in preparation as he made his way through the crowd.  
  
"Hey! Wait up!" Mar called as he attempted to catch up to Tarn before he lost him.  
  
"Damn . . ." Tarn cursed softly as he spotted the blue-eyed otter moving from where he had been leaning against the cavern wall. The otter had spotted Tarn, his cold eyes drawn by Mar's cry. "Ye ain't goin' ta get away from me that easily, scum . . ." Tarn hissed as he dodged through the crowd towards the exit and finally into the blizzard once more, the winds howling and snow falling as Tarn stumbled through the powerful gusts, but even with all of that the otter moved quickly, following the killer's fresh tracks.  
  
~~~~~  
  
Nearly an hour had passed and Tarn's pace had been slowed nearly to a crawl, but still he plunged onwards through banks of snow. He was no longer following tracks; he was following instinct, following the feelings, the hatred. The thirst for revenge, a thirst for the killer's blood. Then, suddenly the world seemed to stop, the snowfalls lightening until they were no more, the winds weakened to a light breeze and Tarn stopped in his tracks, frozen by instinct. The killer was near.  
  
"Why are ye following me?" A voice asked, coming from behind.  
  
"Not sure yet." Tarn replied, turning around to find the blue-eyed otter standing there, just a few paces behind him, seemingly unfazed by the blizzard they had both been through. "I'm hunting for a killer."  
  
"Ah . . .now I remember ye. How's yore wife?" The otter asked with a cruel grin, removing a large dagger from its sheath as they spoke. Tarn growled in response, taking a few steps forwards holding his knife out in front.  
  
"Make a move, scum." Tarn spat the words out, his eyes burning with rage, with a barely contained bloodlust as the two combatants began to circle one another.  
  
"Die!" The killer cried out as he made his move, a crazy smile upon his face as he lunged at Tarn, dagger sent in a horizontal arc. Tarn jumped back, taking advantage of the other otter's position, slicing a clean line across he killer's abdomen. The killer winced in pain, but did not slow his assault, digging a bloodied hook into Tarn's shoulder, throwing him to ground. Tarn hesitated for a second, the pain of the wound giving the killer all the time he needed. Tarn found a dagger stabbed deep into his stomach, a fatal wound. The killer threw himself back, watching as Tarn struggling to his paws, a hook through his shoulder, clutching at the dagger as blood began to pour out around the steel.  
  
"Bastard . . ." He cursed. Stumbling towards the otter and with what was left of him, he ripped the dagger from his stomach and plunged it deep into the other otter's chest, piercing its heart. Both of them collapsed to the ground, the killer was dead and Tarn's vision had begun to fade. Then, once again, he found himself at the edge of the cliff, staring down.  
  
He was searching for something, but found only darkness there. Then Tarn felt a paw on his shoulder and turning he found a pair of bright green eyes staring out from beneath a hood. It was a shadow, dressed in a great, flowing cloak, which seemed to float in the darkness, seemingly made of the darkness. Tarn stared into death's eyes; they weren't the cold eyes he had thought they would be, they seemed almost welcoming. The shadow waved a paw to his right to reveal large gates, forged of black steel, they sat open, a voice beckoning Tarn towards them.  
  
As if in a trance, Tarn moved towards the gate and through the threshold. He knew what awaited him there, the dark forest, within it his family awaited, his existence. With a strange sort of smile the otter disappeared into the darkness and the gates slammed home, barring all entry. Before them stood the shadow, the guardian of the gates, and upon its face was a smile. 


	2. The Shadows Smile v1

(Note: this is the original version of the story)  
  
~The Shadow's Smile~  
  
~Part One~  
  
It was a cold day in the northlands; a frigid wind blew over the landscape as ice fell from the sky. A blizzard had brewed, forcing all sensible creatures fleeing for shelter. A lone figure, a dark furred otter, wearing a large, thick coat, soaked by the snow, silhouetted by the swirling tempest of ice, chilling him to the bone as he struggled on through the storm nearly on all fours from the force of the winds. His eyes were focused ahead on something lost in the darkness, his eyes nearly frozen open, every movement of his body caused pain. Finally it was far too much for the otter and he collapsed, leaving a deep impression in the snow as he sank into the world of dreams and nightmares.  
  
It was always the same dreams for the otter, the same nightmarish memories crawling across his mind, taunting him with the past. Spectral images flooded his thought, blurred images of happiness rushing him only to fade away into the darkness. They flew about in a blood-tainted swirl, until the otter felt his feet hit solid ground and he found himself glancing through a light snowfall into a cave, his home. It was early winter, a cold breeze a reminder of what was to come in the weeks ahead.  
  
Patterns of frost covered the ground and trees; most of the flowers and spring plants had already died as if nature itself were preparing for the winter ahead. The freezing rains had turned the dirt to mud as the otter was coming back from the last hunt before he and his family would be sealed up by the frigid cold. Slung over his back was a net full of fish caught in a nearby river, he walked slowly into the rock face, a cave that led to a giant network of caves in which many families lived and worked.  
  
Torches burned brightly, revealing the cave with a soft flickering glow. As he walked, the otter found an eerie silence, far quieter then it normally was for this time of the day, even with the winter on the way. Shrugging it off he turned into the tunnel leading to his own home, merely a moment's walk, but something was different now. The torches seemed to not glow as bright, their warmth faded, unable to reach the otter, leaving him with a cold shiver crawling down his spine. Then he heard it, a soft sound echoing of the walls of the cave, somewhere a baby was crying and a mother screamed.  
  
~Part Two~  
  
The otter could feel his heart pounding within his chest as fear poked at his thoughts. Breaking into a run, he let his catch drop to the ground and raced through the halls, rocks blurring besides him. The light at the end never seeming to near as the eerie wail bounced of the walls in a deathly melody. Suddenly he felt it, a stab at his soul as the end of the tunnel came with the end of the sound and he found himself in his home staring down at a fallen cradle.  
  
Silence abound as a single light flickered weakly casting long shadows, the otter had frozen in the doorway, staring down at what was once his life, his family. The fallen cradle, a blanket wrapped tightly, fabric stained red. On the bed, her eyes staring at him, cold and lifeless, was his wife's body, lying in a pool of crimson blood. His mouth hung open in shock as he could feel everything being torn from his grasp as her beautiful face looked at him, horror written on her features, a deep wound in her chest.  
  
Then he heard it, the soft sound of breathing that was not his own and her whirled about to face it, hunting knife drawn and ready, but only found darkness. Growling he menaced the shadows with the knife, daring the killer to come out. Then a sudden blur and he fell back, a sharp, throbbing pain in his shoulder and he saw it, the shadow was smiling down at its prey, a helpless, fool of an otter that had challenged the darkness. Still smiling it brought out a long, gleaming hook and held it towards the otter that had been pinned to the rock floor of the cave with a knife.  
  
"Murderer!" The shadow cried out in a very familiar voice as the hook came down, burying itself deep within his chest. The otter looked at the shadow to find himself looking back, a look of utter hatred burning in his eyes as the world was tinted red with death. Slowly the nightmare faded into red, growing dimmer as the moments passed by unnoticed and then back into the darkness from which they had come. He felt the hate burn within his soul for that shadow, it would pay if it were the last thing he ever did.  
  
"Tarn . . ." Out of the darkness the otter heard a soft voice calling to him, the dark parted with a blinding golden light, shining through a haze. Tarn wandered the strange fog searching for the voice, something in the back of his mind driving him on after it. A figure bathed in a golden hue darted through the fog and Tarn ran after it, he knew to whom the voice belonged. Darting through the fog he found the figure standing still on the edge of the fog, fur shining with a gold light.  
  
"Kaia . . ." He whispered as he moved towards the figure, a beautiful female otter with her fur neat and glowing gold through the fog. He moved to her side and looked into her eyes to find her blue orbs saddened as they stared down in an abyss. Looking down, Tarn found a deep cut into the earth before he and his wife, a red glow at the distant bottom, he looked up again to find his wife to have disappeared into the fog.  
  
"Kaia!" He called into the fog, which turned an angry shade of red as he searched for her in a panic with his eyes. Then he heard a loud crack and found himself falling from the cliff into the red chasm, the walls streaming past, his paws outstretch towards the distant surface where the golden furred otter maid stared down at him with cold, unfeeling eyes.  
  
~Part Three~  
  
Slowly her face receded into the darkness and all his senses numbed to the dream world as his mind slowly came into consciousness, eyes flicking this way and that beneath closed lids. He clung to the dreams, longing for another look, just a fleeting glance of the otter maid that he had once called his love. Giving up he let himself slowly drift into consciousness and his eyes flickered open slowly as his senses returned with sharp, searing pain all over his body.  
  
"Mar!" Someone called out in a feminine as he glanced around with blurred eyes; his green eyes were clouded over partially, he felt some beast's paws on his shoulder, pressing down.  
  
"What Mira?" Another voice asked.  
  
"The otter woke up!" The first voice, Mira, called back, her voice had a nervous quiver. Slowly Tarn's vision cleared and he found an otter's face staring down with nervous brown eyes, filled with a sort of fright as she stared into his eyes. Another otter, a male that towered over the ottermaid, stepped to her side a glanced down, holding a cup filled with a vile smelling concoction.  
  
"Drink this matey, it'll help with the pain." Tarn gulped it down, trying not to taste it. Staring up he stayed silent, a grimace on his face as the searing pain slowly began to subside. "You're a lucky 'un mate. We found ye just before ye froze solid."  
  
"Thank you." Tarn said in a weak, near silent whisper, slowly the brew began to work its magic and he felt the pain lift away slowly at first before he felt his entire body numb. The next few hours passed as nothing more then a fleeting dream, blurred shapes moving about as he stared straight up into the ceiling. Memories flowed through his mind, none of the twisted nightmares surfacing, only the simple truths of the past.  
  
He'd walked into the cave and everything was normal, not a thing out of place giving no warning of what was to transpire on that night. He'd walked in, his bounty on his back to find that the tunnel to his home darkened and the soft sound of crying reverberating off the cave walls. He quickened his pace and found his meager home a mess, toys, books and cloth strewn everywhere, the cradle fallen and bloodied.  
  
Standing over his bed was a shadow where his former wife lay, wounds covering his body, only the eyes untouched, open and staring into Tarn's own. The shadow turned, steel and a smile shining in the darkness, all of the creature's features indistinguishable from anybeast except for the eyes, they were a cold blue hue, glinting in the darkness. Screaming something out, he remembered talking it into a wall, getting in a good slash across it's chest before he found himself pinned to the wall by a long shining knife.  
  
The shadow took off out the door and Tarn found himself bleeding all over on the floor as he ripped he knife from his shoulder and ran after it, collapsing halfway. He could see the mouth of the cave, ice falling from the sky in an eerie dance and the shadow silhouetted against the darkening skies of the northlands before it disappeared, melding into the forest. A few minutes later, shoulder bound, carrying weapons of all sorts he took off into the dark after the creature and found himself lost in the shadows.  
  
~Part Four~  
  
Morning had come far too soon for Tarn; he was in pain all over. Frostbitten limbs stung him relentlessly, waking him from his dreamless slumber that had been filled only with the cold unfeeling facts. He awoke to find the small room he was in to be empty save for a small plate of breakfast, merely rations for it was winter, the time to conserve food in the northlands. Struggling to sit upright he glanced down at the food, he'd slept through the morning, the food had cooled off.  
  
"Where?" Tarn wondered aloud. He was thinking about a lot of things as he sat up painfully, beginning his meal as dreams, memories and thoughts danced through his mind. There was the past he saw, a beautiful life, a happy life and then abruptly it lead to darkness with that shadow. That was the foremost thought in the otter's mind, revenge upon that shadow.  
  
He wished he could just close his eyes, let the whole thing just pass him by. Have everything be right again somehow, but there was the memory, an overturned cradle. It wasn't from too long ago, but it felt that way, like it had happened seasons ago, it was an echo from the past, haunting him. His former life was a ghost already, demanding revenge so they could rest eternally within the gates of the dark forest in peace. By the time he'd thought it through he'd finished his breakfast and was just sitting on the bed, staring into nothingness.  
  
"So yer up mate?" An otter, one he recognized as his rescuer, asked in a cheerful tone as he entered the room, moving the hanging blanket that served as a door aside.  
  
"Yeah." Tarn answered in an emotionless, distracted voice as he continued staring at the wall of the room, thinking about something. He seemed to be somewhere far away, lost in his thoughts.  
  
"So are ye going ta tell me why you were out there in that storm?" The otter asked, leaning next to where Tarn was staring.  
  
"I was hunting . . ." He answered darkly. It was the truth after all, but somehow it sounded wrong to him.  
  
"Hunting? Hunting what?" The otter asked, plainly confused.  
  
"A murderer." He stated simply and got up, using the bed for support. The other otter helped him up slowly.  
  
"Murderer? In any case you shouldn't be up an' about now." The otter Mar, as he now remembered his name.  
  
"I have to be up." Tarn said it simply as a fact and then gritting his teeth, as his frostbitten limbs pained him greatly, struggled towards the door.  
  
"Seriously mate, you ain't in any condition to be out there." Mar put a paw on Tarn's shoulder stopping him from going any further.  
  
"I have to." Tarn answered again and Mar could see there wasn't any way to keep the otter from trying save for knocking him out.  
  
"At least come eat something warm first, ye need something warm. The weather out there'll freeze yer rudder right off." Tarn gave into the request, the breakfast hadn't filled him and he felt cold on the inside, like there was a great hole inside of him. "This way." Mar led him through a series of caves and tunnels to a great hall where there was an entire Holt of otters gathered, eating and chatting.  
  
"Thank you." Tarn sat a table, quickly receiving his meal from a young ottermaid; he stayed silent throughout the entire meal, enjoying being around the huge group of joyful beasts, but he kept to himself, only nodding or shaking his head in response, but not really listening. Then towards the middle of the meal he felt it.  
  
"You okay mate?" Tarn's eyes were wide. He could feel some beast's eyes upon him; a familiar pair of eyes, glancing around he saw an otter with very familiar blue eyes.  
  
"Yes." Mar was a little surprised; it was the first word the otter had spoken all meal. "Do you know that otter?" Mar followed Tarn's gaze.  
  
"Who?" He asked as he stared into the group, trying to pick out the otter Tarn was referring to.  
  
"That one, with the blue eyes." Tarn pointed towards the otter inconspicuously, keeping his hand out of the strange otter's view.  
  
"No, I'm afraid not. He's probably another visitor like you. Got caught in the storm." Mar explained. "We've got a lot of beast's that got caught out there. That storm is a killer. Does he look familiar to you?" Mar asked as he ate his meal slowly, watching Tarn carefully, trying to figure the otter out.  
  
"Yes, he does. Excuse me." Tarn rose to his feet as he saw the blue-eyed otter leaving. Moments later Tarn was outside again, staring through the lightly falling snow, hunting again.  
  
~Part Five~  
  
The winds howled and snow fell down hard as Tarn stumbled through the gusts. He felt the stinging cold, his old wounds and frostbitten limbs slowing him down as he followed a twisting path through the new fallen snow. It felt like it had been hours since leaving the warm caves and he hadn't seen the mysterious blue-eyed otter anywhere since. It was almost as if the otter had disappeared and soon enough it was almost obvious, the tracks had ended in mid step.  
  
"Damn it." He hissed as he realized that his only chance had just vanished with the howling winds, the new snow had covered it up. His path was gone, lost in the winter and he didn't know what to do. Mentally exhausted he fell to his knees, staring at the last paw step. He sighed, watching his breath freeze in the cold air, it was over, the ghosts were still haunting him, pushing him on to whatever end.  
  
It was so cold, the temperature seemed to drop even further with the realization that he was at an end and there was no more trail to walk. He was at a cliff, staring down into the abyss that frightened him so, his past staring down and death staring up at with its cold unfeeling eyes. They both watched as he teetered on that edge between life and death, hate and forgiveness, but he never moved. Tarn was waiting, hoping for something to come along to make the choice for him, to continue on or to give up. And then that something came.  
  
"Why are you following me?" A voice asked, the wind had died down and the snow fell gently from the sky, joining the masses of white on the ground.  
  
"I'm not sure." Tarn answered in a low voice that was lost in the light winds. He looked up to find the blue-eyed otter standing there, glaring down at him, a huge black cloak concealing its body. They were those same eyes, the same cold hue and there it was, the same evil staring out from within its exterior facade. He could see beneath the otter's cloak, he could see the vile creature beneath its skin and then he made up his mind.  
  
"What are you doing out here?" The otter asked, trying to keep its truth hidden away from Tarn, but even as it spoke it was drawing a knife from its cloak.  
  
"Hunting." With that Tarn threw himself at the otter, the knife drawn out, he drew his blade quickly, sending it a downward arc quickly, slicing through the otter's cloak. The otter hand stepped back out of harms way and throwing of its cloak, it revealed rows of knifes strapped across its torso, a sword and hooks on its belt. The otter had drawn out two such hooks, standing ready to use them.  
  
"I remember you." The blue-eyed otter smiled with satisfaction, Tarn growled as he waited for the otter to make his move. He knew that he didn't have the better weapon and he was at a disadvantage, so he would wait.  
  
"Make a move scum." He spat the words out; his face was full of rage and loathing for the other otter. Tarn's eyes had slowly glazed over with an unnatural red hue, but he hadn't lost focus. Then it came, the otter threw a hook low at Tarn's foot paws and while he jumped to avoid it the blue- eyed otter lunged forward. Tarn felt it as the hook dug into his back painfully, tearing at flesh and bone, as they fell to the ground, fighting tooth and claw with one another.  
  
"Die!" The blue-eyed otter cried, sinking its hook into Tarn's back, searching for the one weak spot all beasts shared. Then he felt it, the sharp hook tearing into his heart, a greater hole appearing beside the one already there in his mind and he felt the ragged pumping as death drew near.  
  
With what was left of him, Tarn drove his blade up into the other otter, he felt as warm blood poured out and his last glimpse was of the snow, slowly being stained with blood. Both their blood pooling in the new fallen snow, the sky seemed to turn an eerie red hue, snow becoming falling flakes of blood. The living world faded away, becoming nothing, but shadow and the otter found himself on the edge of a cliff.  
  
He stared down as if searching for something, but all he found was a bottomless chasm of darkness, the sky all around was overcast, turning orange and red as the sun set upon his old life. Then he felt a paw on his shoulder, turning he found somebeast there in a great flowing cloak, seemingly made of shadows. Twin green eyes peered out from beneath the cloaks hood, but they were not the eyes he had been afraid of earlier. Tarn rose, looking into death's pale green eyes, but they were not so cold anymore; they were almost welcoming, somehow warming him from the cold that had entrapped the otter. The shadow beckoned him backwards, away from the cliff and towards an unmistakable gate that lay there waiting, calling out for the otter.  
  
Rising, as if in a trance, Tarn moved towards the gate. Slowly it swung outwards, opening for him and there he could see it, the dark forest awaited him and within it his family and life itself. The otter disappeared into the gates, they slammed home to bar all entry and before them stood the shadow and upon it's face was a smile. 


End file.
